The Ashes
by LuckyWar
Summary: Katniss and Peeta's two children are making marks in the world with their own adventures.


I own nothing from the original Hunger Games series.

* * *

The Ashes

Prologue

It's a rare event for my house to be in complete chaos. Normally, we are all so fluid and familiar with each other's synergies that the daily routines can get unbearably boring and monotonous, but not lately. Lately, I've found myself visiting this meadow more and more, and for longer periods of time to escape from the recent madness that is my mother. She's driven everyone out of their minds with her anxiety, to the point that no one is safe. I'd nearly burst of annoyance as soon as I got home this afternoon when I noticed how bright it still was outside. I didn't hesitate a moment more. I grabbed a coat, shot out the door before either of my parents could get a word in otherwise, and headed straight to this meadow. The grass was soft this time of year and the warm sun but cooling breeze accentuated the feeling of gratifying luxury that welcomed me openly. This meadow is a sacred site for my district, the resting place of many beloved souls who fought for change, my kin included. But, for me, it is a familiar escape, a sanctuary from my world and a much needed relief, especially now. There is something about this hillside, the view and the surroundings. Even if my parents never took my younger brother and me to play here as children, I feel like this meadow would have called to my soul to draw me in, and I would have followed faithfully. I'm disappointed in myself that, in the past, I've forgotten all too often to pay it a visit.

But connection or not, my parents tolerated none of my explanations as to my missing dinner every night this week. And because of this, since it's clear I have absolutely no consciousness of time, my father felt it best to give me a curfew. A restriction that he's never enforced on me or my brother in all of my 15 years and one that I have made obvious I disagree with by breaking it constantly. But my father's natural gentleness and nurturing, despite my complete defiance of him and my mother every night, leads me to believe that he's just trying to keep some kind of order amidst the recent madness that has stormed over my family (particularly my mother) and that giving me restrictions serves as a kind of improvised guide for him to recover if he were to completely lose his mind. He's rarely out of sorts and has always been an anchor in times of need. And he's always been gracious and accepting of this role, but every so often even he needs help and I suppose I can't count that against him.

My brother, on the other hand, has been less forgiving than my father. He seems to be more annoyed with me by the day, but I'm not really sure why, and my parents pretend not to notice. Piper is only 2 years younger than me and similar in long, lengthy build, but in nature we couldn't be any more different. I'm not sure exactly when, but as we matured we started to grow apart. He became brooding and melancholy, and often times he wanted to be left alone. He was such an enigmatic creature, and became particularly sought out when he reached the age that girls at school started to notice him. He was tall and lanky, even as a young boy, with dark, deep eyes and dusty blond hair. Such a contrast was hard not to notice. He would walk home from school and girls would try everything to grab his attention, but he would snub them mercilessly. I wasn't very surprised that my constant need to leave the house lately upset him, as he surely didn't hide the fact that he disliked me missing out on dinners and that he thought it unfair that I wasn't really punished for it.

In any case, my curfew time for today is coming up fast and I cannot be late coming home, especially not today. My entire family and I are leaving on a trip later on tonight, a trip that has been the sole source of my mother's latest anxiety storms. Today is the day my mother has been going senseless over preparing for, what all this chaos and these curfews have been leading up to, and if I'm late even my father can't stop what my mother will do to me. She is the reason that everything is out of sync and why we've all been on edge these last few days. To say she was driving me insane would be an understatement, but I guess I should try and be more forgiving during such a solemn time.

Several weeks ago, we received a sad and disheartening message that threw my parents into such grief that I still don't think they've recovered. Their dear friend and mentor, Haymitch Abernathy, was dying. He had moved away a number of years ago to the Capitol to receive specialized treatment and care, as his body was slowly beginning to fail. My brother and I were very young at the time, I was not even 6.

"Any kind of treatment we have here is just too simple", my mother would try and explain to me.

He needed much more than our district could offer him and the Capitol was where the best care and medicines could be offered to keep him alive. It was my parents who finally decided to send him to the Capitol. Haymitch had given them equal power of authority over him if ever he were incapacitated. My mother always thought it was strange that Haymitch gave them equal authority and had not just given full authority to my father. Haymitch and my mother's relationship was one of mutuality, to say the least. But I always thought he gave them equal power because he loved them equally, like his own kids. It was obvious he felt that way about them by the relationship he had with my brother and I, and, because of it, I was just as devastated as my parents when we got that message several weeks ago. My father always told us that it was one of the most difficult decisions he and my mother had ever made, to send Haymitch to the Capitol. By sending Haymitch away, they knew it would be some time, if ever, that we would see him again. My parents haven't traveled to the Capitol in over three decades, never promoted the idea, and never intended to return, until now.

When my mother realized that to see Haymitch we, as a family, needed to travel to the Capitol, her face turned a ghostly white and she clung to my father to keep her footing. My brother and I only looked at each other, completely confused. In a dramatic fashion, my parents sent us to bed early and locked themselves away in their office, where they talked for hours alone before finally deciding and announcing to us the next morning that we were all going to make the trip to the Capitol. I could see the tension and stress on my mother's face as the phrase left her lips. My father was a little more gracious in his delivery, telling us that we would spend no more than 3 days there and that they've already planned everyone we would see and everything we would do. I know my parents are extremely weary of anything to do with the Capitol, let alone having to go back, but it has changed so much since the old regime. To be honest, my mother's adamancy against all things Capitol really sparked my own curiosity. Could it be that horrible of a place? There have been new presidents, new authorities, new programs and a number of other new things to filter out the past. Not only has the society changed, but from what I can gather from broadcastings, the city itself looks so polished and modern and just filled with grandeur. I can't agree with the latest fashion statements, but the reforms and ideas that come from that side of the nation are so different and enticing to me. I am curious and excited to see it all for myself, but I do everything I can to hide any hint of enthusiasm from my parents. Promoting the capitol may just be the push my mother needs to fall off the edge completely.

But I push all of those thoughts aside to feel the cool breeze against my skin as it sweeps my cheeks and flutters through my light brown hair. The sun is enveloping and the feel of the grass is so inviting and extremely comforting. The chirps of the birds are coming together in a soothing song as I close my eyes, lay back and begin to let the time escape me again.

"Is it too late to buy a solo ticket and have my own adventure?" I say out loud to the universe.

I am shocked to hear a response, "It isn't too late but I dare you to try". I open my eyes widely, sit up and turn in one swift motion, then laugh lightly when I see who is standing behind me. It's my mother. She's standing there smiling at me with her deep, dark eyes that are all too familiar. She has lines on her face that come with age, but her skin is light and soft in the sunlight and her hair is still as dark as ever. I've seen pictures of her and my father when they were younger, and her face at that age is so similar in shape and form to mine. When I look at her, I feel as if I am very much looking into the future, with some minor differences (for the better on my part anyway). I must have really lost track of time if my father sent her after me.

"You know Persephone," she starts as she walks towards me and I begin to get up from my reverie.

"When I was about your age, I used to come to this meadow as often as you've been lately. It was a different time and a different setting, and so much has changed but, somehow, this meadow is still as familiar as ever. I guess there are some things that won't change with time, "she states thoughtfully. Her arms are crossed at her chest and she looks around to soak up as much of the atmosphere as I've been these last few hours.

"SOME things…" I retort with a smile.

She chuckles, puts her arm around me and we begin our walk back home, side by side together.

* * *

The train ride to the capitol was an overnight journey. Just as my father said, they had everything planned out without skipping a beat. Once we arrived to the station there was already a car waiting for us to take us to our lodgings. We had about an hour to settle when we were picked up to go to the hospice that Haymitch was staying in. When we got to the hospice, Haymitch's caretaker greeted us in the lobby and led us directly to his room. It was one thing after the other, and I was barely able to notice any of my surroundings. I got the sense that my mother definitely did not want us to explore on this trip. But all of those thoughts melted the moment we reached Haymitch's door.

"Here we are", the caretaker says almost cheerfully, and opens the door for us to make our entrance.

We walk in and are immediately surrounded by the buzzing noises of a room full of machines. The only conflicting sound I am able to make out is the faint hum of a slow, steady breathing, and my eyes are led to the old man in the bed lying peacefully still. He is so frail and so feeble; his skin so wrinkled and spotted. His hair is a bright white and extremely thinned out and I can barely make out any of his features. We are all standing at the entryway, huddled together and afraid to move, as if one shift in our bodies would shatter the old man into a million pieces. My brother and I stood behind my parents, patiently waiting for some kind of direction as to what to do next. They were as silent and as still as I've never seen them before, so shocked at the sight I suppose. And before my parents could even form a thought, the old man spoke, pulling us all out of our trance.

"Hello sweetheart", he says softly.

It is in such a welcoming and comforting tone that my heart aches at hearing it. My mother lets out a sigh and a whimper, catalysts to the tears that immediately begin to race down her cheeks. In an instant, she is sitting in the chair next to his bed, lifting his hand gently to her face as his fingers graze her rosy cheek. She is sobbing now and it seems that no other words need to be spoken between them. My father joins in their happy reunion, standing behind my mother with one hand on her shoulder and the other stretched out to clasp the old man's free hand.

Piper and I are still frozen at the doorway, not afraid anymore but embarrassed that we don't seem to know or understand the magnitude of this moment. I can't speak for my brother, but I look at their faces and even though I can't know or understand their obvious deep connection, I know that I am sad. I'm sad that I am ignorant of it all, that clearly these three lives have been intertwined in deeper ways than I could or have known, and now it is too late to understand. The sight of my mother trying to compose herself and my father starting to tear makes a small knot in my chest and I begin to cry lightly. My parents turn to my brother and me at the sound of my snivels, a look of surprise on their faces like they forgot we were even in existence.

My father ushers us over to the bed to say our hellos and Haymitch welcomes our greetings with open arms, literally. Any stranger could see he is elated by our visit. He tells my brother and me that we've grown so tall since the last time he saw us and that we are our parents reincarnated. We all laugh together warmly and spend the rest of the night talking about happier memories.


End file.
